


Boy's Home

by romanticalgirl



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 12:26:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3410594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre Terry's return in 3x06. </p><p>"Did I just get invited to a sleepover?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boy's Home

Mickey doesn’t let himself think. If he thinks, he might hope, and hoping is something Milkovichs don’t do. Hope is for pussies. He just knows he’s got the house to himself, so he picked up some of his favorite shit to eat. He’s not fucking entertaining and it definitely has fuck-all to do with Gallagher.

Besides, the chances of Ian actually manning up enough to sneak out of the group home seems pretty slim. Except Ian _is_ a Gallagher, and they’re a mixture of brave and fucking stupid, so the odds might actually be fifty-fifty. Not that Mickey gives a shit one way or the other.

“Fuck.” Mickey kicks the coffee table, sending it skittering a few inches across the floor. He chews on the skin at his left thumbnail and stomps into the kitchen, digging a beer out of the fridge. “Fucking Gallaghers.”

There’s a knock at the front door and Mickey’s cock jerks despite the knot in his stomach. He takes a long swallow of his beer on the way to the door. Swinging the door open, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

Ian’s standing there, and Mickey’s struck again by how much Ian changed in the eight months Mickey was gone, how fucking hot he is. Mickey belches and looks Ian up and down. “What do you want?”

Ian smirks, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. He meets Mickey’s eyes and Mickey’s cock jerks again. “You.”

“Get the fuck in here.” Mickey grabs Ian’s wrist and jerks him into the house. Ian crashes into him as Mickey slams the door shut. He backs Ian up against it and pins his wrists to the wood. Ian huffs a laugh but it gets caught in Mickey’s kiss. Ever since the first one, quick as it was, all Mickey’s been able to think about is the hot feel of Ian’s mouth, the slide of his tongue.

Ian moans roughly and arches away from the door, pressing his body into Mickeys, wrapping one of his legs around the back of Mickey’s. “Fuck, Mick.”

“Bed. Fucking bed.” Mickey steps back, hands still wrapped around Ian’s wrists, pulling him with him. “Shit.” They stumble backwards, Mickey surging forward after a few steps to kiss Ian again. “Want on you.”

“Yeah?” Ian’s voice makes something inside Mickey twist and come loose. “You gonna fuck me?”

Mickey bites Ian’s lower lip. “Ride you.”

“Christ.” Ian shoves Mickey hard and Mickey hits the edge of the bed, going down hard, smacking his head against the wall. 

“What the fuck?” Mickey’s cut off from saying anything else when Ian moves in, straddling him, kissing Mickey like he’s fucking his mouth. Mickey thrusts up into Ian’s weight. It’s different like this from when Ian’s chest is against Mickey’s back, his dick pounding into him. Different from when Ian’s staring down at him and Mickey’s dick is trapped between them. 

Ian pulls back for a moment then places his hands on either side of Mickey’s face, raking his fingers through Mickey’s hair, tilting his head when he kisses him again. Fucking manhandling Mickey and Mickey’s dick is so hard it aches. Ian had fucked him the first time, every time, but back then he’d been smaller, and Mickey had no trouble pinning him down, moving him around. Now Ian’s bigger, taller, stronger and Mickey doesn’t surrender, because Milkovichs don’t surrender, but fuck if he isn’t owned.

Mickey reaches for the neck of his shirt and tugs it up, and Ian breaks the kiss long enough for Mickey to strip it over his head. He tosses it onto the floor and then reaches for Ian’s shirt, pulling it out from his jeans. “Off. C’mon, Gallagher.”

Ian helps Mickey get the shirt off and then turns them, pinning Mickey to the bed. Mickey arches up and his dick slides against Ian’s through their jeans. Ian groans and Mickey tugs him down, mouthing at Ian’s neck. Ian slides a hand between them and squeezes Mickey and Mickey moans against his throat. 

“Let me...want...” Mickey rolls them over again so he’s on top of Ian. Ian’s breathing as hard as Mickey, chest rising and falling rapidly. “Ian.”

“Can’t ride me with your pants on.”

“Right. Shit.” Mickey raises up onto his knees and undoes his jeans, shoving them down his legs as Ian arches off the bed and pushes his jeans and boxers down. Mickey straddles Ian’s lower legs and rubs his hands up Ian’s thighs. “Fuck.”

“What’s stopping you?”

Mickey tightens his fingers, digging into the flesh and muscle of Ian’s thighs, bending forward and taking Ian’s dick in his mouth. Ian’s whole body jerks as Mickey sucks him deep. Mickey’s sucked dick before, been fucked before, but Ian is harder, thicker than anyone else Mickey’s had, been had by. He digs in with his fingertips as he moves them down to Ian’s ass, cupping it and lifting him up, swallowing him deeper.

“Jesus fuck.” Ian head falls back, but Mickey sees him watching him. Sees how dark his eyes get as he watches Mickey’s face, his mouth, the slide of his dick between Mickey’s lips. “Christ, Mickey. Fuck.”

Mickey sucks, swallowing, tongue moving against the underside of Ian’s cock. Saliva slick on the skin, sliding down to Ian’s balls. Mickey cups them and Ian thrusts hard, and it takes all of Mickey’s willpower not to choke. But there’s no fucking way he’s pulling off.

“Mickey. Shit. C’mon. Jesus.” Ian’s hands grab at Mickey’s shoulders, fingers digging into his arm pits as he pulls him up. Mickey lets go of Ian’s dick with a wet sound and then Ian’s kissing him again, wet dick painting Mickey’s stomach with spit and pre-come. “Need your ass. Now.”

Mickey nods, panting as he shifts over Ian, reaching between them to grab Ian and guide him against him. Mickey holds his breath as Ian grabs his hips, trying to relax as Ian pushes inside. It’s slow and painful and burns and Mickey loves it. It’s like a cigarette burn, a mark, a brand. He clenches his fists as Ian’s hips rise up to meet him as he sinks down. Everything hurts and Mickey closes his eyes. He’s used to pain, and none of it ever feels like this, this good, this perfect.

When he finally opens his eyes and lets out a shuddering breath, Ian’s looking up at him with an expression Mickey can’t quite read. Isn’t sure he’d want to if he could. Ian grabs Mickey’s wrists and both of their hands are shaking. Ian’s thumbs rub at the base of Mickey’s palms and he unclenches his fists, letting Ian’s fingers thread through his. Ian nods slightly and Mickey tightens his grip, steadying himself as he starts to move. His breath shakes out of him and he can feel the bright burn of tears in his eyes. 

“Ian. Fuck, Ian.”

Ian nods and surges up and guides their hands to the small of Mickey’s back. He pushes against Mickey’s spine, forcing him closer. Ian’s mouth covers Mickey’s so he’s swallowing every sound, every whimper as they move together. Mickey grinds down against him, his dick hot as fuck, throbbing, needing something. Ian’s fist. Fucking Ian.

Ian releases Mickey’s hands and Mickey groans with relief when Ian wraps his hand around Mickey’s dick, jerking him hard and fast. Mickey’s downward thrusts match the rhythm and he’s biting his lip, breathing roughly through his nose. He buries his face against Ian’s throat when he comes, gasping and tasting sweat against his tongue.

Ian grabs Mickey’s hips, one hand wet with come, and holds on as he fucks up into Mickey. Mickey feels the shudder hit Ian and run through them both as Ian arches up into him, burying himself as deep as he can. 

Ian’s hand slides up Mickey’s back and then back down to the curve of his ass. “Hey.”

Mickey huffs a laugh against Ian’s throat, licking the sweat from his skin. “Shut up, asshole.”


End file.
